Like Fallen Angels
by the silver hunters
Summary: Jace wonders why Clary chose to save him, even though death was the beginning of another chapter of life. And when he fell in love in the first place, why her? Jace/Clary. One-shot.


Like Fallen Angels

Jace sat at the meadow in Idris. His face was bathed in the light of the full moon as he thought; reflecting on what had passed earlier that week. Everyone else was partying in the square, but he didn't want to participate. He could barely remember anything, but still could hear Clary's voice saying his name over and over again in his mind. Just the thought of her created sparks in his brain, wondering when he would see her next, or if he'd been dreaming the whole time and was never really alive. That Clary hadn't made him her only wish. He shuddered, shivering out of his doubts.

"Jace."

To him, her voice sounded like singing mockingbirds. He turned.

"Clary." She stood not twenty yards from him, looking like the beautiful Archangel from those Bible stories. The silver floor length dress shimmered gently. "Where did you get the dress?"

"I borrowed it from Amatis. Consider it a temporary gift." She paused, observing his expression. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know. I feel like I've been woken up from a dream. Like it was impossible for you to have chosen me as the one thing you would wish for. I died. I wasn't even sure if you loved me or if the whole sibling thing was true—there was nothing you could do."

"There was everything I could do," Clary objected. "I just had to ask Raziel. But I put it in the simplest—perfect, too, I guess—form I could."

"Perfect?" Jace scoffed. "No way. We're the Nephilim. The Nephil are fallen angels. Only half of perfection."

He didn't get an answer from Clary that time immediately, but she walked over to where he was sitting and sat down next to him. He picked up her hand and played with her fingers. He kissed the tip of each, before grasping her hand between both of his and holding it like it was the most valuable thing in the world.

"Jace, we may sure _act_ like fallen angels, but we're not. We are the angel people. Literally. We have more angel blood than all other Shadowhunters. I'm pretty damn sure that we aren't fallen. No Shadowhunters are."

Jace's anger flared slightly. "To hell with that. I thought you were my sister. You're not. I mean, that's a good thing, but I have to be pretty fallen to believe that. We're like fallen angels."

Always the patient, Clary said nothing. She only waited for Jace to speak to her again. But softly, so she could barely hear him, all he said was, "I don't think you're a fallen angel."

"Sure. That's a compliment. But _you_ definitely _act_ like one. Only a fallen angel could pig out at the dinner table like you did last night."

Offended, Jace released her hand. "Excuse me? Are you calling me a fat fallen angel? I am not fat. But speaking of last night…" Suggestively, he smirked, arching an eyebrow.

Clary rolled her eyes. "Only you be perverted enough to say that. Actually, screw that. Isabelle would too."

"Correct like always. But I am not perverted. At least, not _that_ perverted."

"Says you." Clary laughed. Hearing it, Jace felt happy.

"That's your new title," Clary giggled. "Jace, The Perverted Fallen Angel."

"Huh?" Jace was looking blindly into the distance. At the party, more drinks were being handed out, more people dancing in the streets. (He could've sworn he saw Isabelle drunkenly dragging Simon into the nearest dark alleyway.)

"Are you okay?" The question came again. "You've been kind of out of it the whole night. You didn't come to the party, or the dance, and now you're just…thinking. Zoning out. Not even being smartass and full of yourself. Like just totally spacing out."

"You picked me."

"What?" It was Clary's turn to be confused.

"You decided that the only thing you really wanted was me," Jace repeated.

"We've been over this. Yes, it's true that the only thing I truly want is you, but if you want the easy way, I would have felt guilty if I didn't pick you. So that's a small percentage of it too."

Jace was silent a moment, then burst out, "I would have picked you, too."

The silence was deafening, even as Clary whispered a quiet "Thank you."

They continued sitting, not talking, just enjoying the other's presence and the beautiful scenery. The bursting fireworks lit the sky like colored exploding witchlight. The crickets chirped and the frogs ribbeted like they were singing a victory song. The loud sounds of nature almost drowned out the sounds of the fireworks. Jace's mind's focus narrowed in on Clary. The way she poised herself on the grass. How she placed her hands delicately on her lap. The way the silvery material of her dress rippled whenever she moved. It was like he couldn't find anything else to occupy his attention, although he could definitely watch the nesting birds to the tree thirty feet to his right. He knew from the second he'd seen her that Clary was different. That Clary was special. That Clary was _extraordinary_. She was like a drug that he'd been addicted to as soon as he had seen it. Jace remembered how angry he was when they'd found out that he and Clary were siblings. It was a nightmare that he didn't have to worry about anymore. The anger that he used to kill Sebastian was something he wouldn't have been able to wield—unless he'd met Clary. She taught him to love, to really love, and to care for the people in his life so it would save him.

He remembered saying to Clary before: "You are successful because you love. Your love for your mother, for Simon, for Luke." Jace had been trained to _hate_, not to love. His Shadowhunter education was lacking in care for others because that was not what they were created for. They were dressed to kill. Literally. But Clary was raised among mundanes, and their principle was love. Love for sacrifices. Love for rules in government—and everywhere else. Love changed history. But that was also in the Shadowhunter world. The only things that love was involved in (other than the family, of course) were past occasions that made history tragically change course.

And Clary had changed Jace. He was different, just like Isabelle said—caring, kind, and just a _little_ more affectionate.

Jace wasn't sure of anything right now. His mind was too boggled from the past week (not to mention his death) to really think any more deeply. He made only one decision.

"Clary."

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

And when he kissed her, Jace knew what they were. Like fallen angels. Because there was nothing else a young Angel-blooded Shadowhunter could be when he was in love like this.


End file.
